Watching the sunrise in Queens a few days back, one of my favorite people and I were discussing New Yorkers. He made me laugh saying something like ‘We’re the only “-ers”, New Yorkers… You don’t have Los Angeles-ers or Chicago-ers.’ I chimed in with ‘Same in Australia, no Melbourne-ers… Sydney tries to have “Sydney-siders”, which is whack to begin with.’
My mother told me this morning that New Yorkers are a big part of why I love the city. ‘They’re like you,’ she said. ‘They’ll talk to anyone walking down the street, that’s why you like it there, because that’s how you are.’
And naturally as a woman that raised five girls she concluded with, ‘That’s why you have to be careful… down there by yourself.’
Approximately 10 000 miles away is a quarter of my life tucked snugly in the southern hemisphere. There are humans on that continent that I love to a degree of hot blooded loyalty that boils in my stomach and spills from my eyes in tears I keep private… unless I’m on Skype at some unheard of hour doubled over in stomach pains bellowing
I MISS YOU I MISS YOU I MISS YOU!
I wonder what it’s like for people that don’t have to try to balance life like I do.
Since trying to live on two sides of the globe at once how I must, I have a new appreciation and respect for immigrants – and they have a new appreciation for me when I tell them my scenario.
I was chatting with a cab driver the other day whose wife and family is in Pakistan, he works in New York City seven months a year then travels back to his family. His wife tried to come live in the States, but she missed her family too much and had to go back.
Every night I go to sleep wondering where I’ll wake up the next day.